More Than Enough
by Jest'lyn Tal
Summary: She's been here before. Everything is on the line and all that is left is the waiting. This time, however, there are distinct differences ... Thane/FShepard
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimers: I don't own Mass Effect 2! Authors notes towards bottom.

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More than Enough

The water was hot though not scalding. Using scalding water would have been stupid, after all. On a ship, water was precious, not to be wasted in pointless gestures and self-indulgent whimsy.

Scalding water did not drive away fears, sooth guilt, or provide someone an external focus so that internal pain could be ignored.

It just plain hurt.

Besides, she'd already done the scalding water thing. She'd gotten all that nonsense out at the beginning, when they brought her back from the dead. Shepard smiled grimly and extended her hand past the spray from her shower, studying her fingers as the shampoo was driven from her hair.

Yes, despite being dead for two years, she felt.

Yes, despite being augmented in ways that she didn't understand, didn't have the details on, water on her skin was still water on her skin.

Yes, she was Commander Shepard and she had a job to do.

She'd prepared for it as best she could. In two hours the Mass Relay would be taking them towards the heart of the galaxy to accomplish a mission that few seemed to acknowledge needed doing.

Just Cerberus.

Just her.

It wasn't like that was a coincidence. Cerberus hadn't left her a lot of choices. It didn't matter how often she said that she didn't trust the Illusive Man or his principles, there was a taint to being brought back by them which seemed synonymous with isolation.

We brought you back. We own you. Everyone else has moved on. We're all that's left. Everything you do now is for the now, is for this purpose.

She closed her eyes, jaw hardening.

Fine. She could accept that. She was no Krogan to live and die for the battle but she still had the things that motivated her. It wasn't even that hard to figure out. She'd lost her family to slavers. They died and she couldn't stop it. Any wanna-be psychologist could have predicted she'd have a thing about trying to save them in her head by saving others.

Cerberus wasn't stupid. While they hadn't created her need to move, nor were they playing the music, in letting her hear it play with no other sounds to drown it out, they had as good as guaranteed she'd dance for them.

The danger was real.

She couldn't possibly have stepped away.

Which was almost like seeing the universe as Thane did, now that she thought of it. They were both tools for a purpose. Both, to varying degrees, content to serve that purpose.

She was tempted to allow her thoughts to linger on the Drell but those were thoughts she wasn't prepared to deal with right now. No, she wasn't running from them. She just knew where they belonged and this wasn't the time for it.

She'd be killing within hours. That alone called for a focus that didn't allow for external matters to interfere. In addition, she'd likely be seeing the people that had trusted her to keep them safe, her crew, as empty husks.

Her failures.

That was going to be distracting enough. Painful enough. Anger and grim determination would see her through it. Let her get the job done. Make those responsible pay. Keep everyone that she could safe.

Anger and grim determination were equal to strength in situations like this.

Focusing on Thane… there was no anger there. There was no soldiering through. There was only…

…. things she wanted.

And, perhaps in her quieter moments she could admit, things that she needed.

Want. Need. It didn't matter. They were things she didn't have right now.

Hell.

She'd been brought back to save the known universe. Not to get all weepy in her shower. She had a purpose. Everything else was secondary. She knew that. She needed to remember that and not go wool gathering off in angsty musings.

Tali'Zorah exiled herself for her father's memory. It was her choice. Not the mission. It didn't matter.

The Quarians were massing for a war with the Geth. Their choice. Not the mission. It didn't matter.

Garrus wanted revenge on those who had killed his team. His choice. Not the mission. It didn't matter.

Kaiden Alenko decided that a dead Shepard was better than a Shepard brought back to life by a group he didn't trust.

His choice.

Not the mission.

It didn't matter.

She inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders. She hadn't dwelt on the Lieutenant since that disastrous meeting on Horizon.

Alright. She might not have dwelt but she had thought. A little.

Thinking long on Kaiden would have only slowed her down, brought her pain, and pissed her off. Though, it wasn't surprising that he'd come to mind now. Last time things had been like this, she'd had something else to bolster raw purpose for the mission. She'd had a stolen hour that should have lent just a little more warmth and a little more to protect as she was allowed to be something /else/ before she might be nothing at all.

Not that Kaiden had given her that.

No. She'd had to drag him practically kicking and screaming to her bed after promising it wouldn't affect things.

Yeah. Damn nice to be wanted.

She looked down at the floor, at her toes. Not that there was anyone to see her expression, to catch the bleakness she could feel thinning her lips and making her eyes too bright. Still, some things were habit and good habits at that. Not an expression to show the world, no.

She'd resented him for that. She'd resented him for making her be a Commander before she could be something else that night. Just as he'd made her feel ashamed for choosing his life over Ashley's.

Sometimes, there were no right answers. There were simply answers that, at the time, felt less wrong than others. It had been the right decision, based on the information she had. She didn't choose Ashley to lead that mission because she loved Kaiden, but no, she hadn't forgotten about him as she'd done it. That tiniest acknowledgment of her feelings for Kaiden even in that situation had almost been enough to end matters between them right there. The mere thought that she could make a choice based on factors other than command had made Kaiden … pull away.

Shepard had gone after him, though. Soothed his worries. She understood. She carried the weight and took it off of him. It was what she did after all. It was what friends and Commanders both did for those they cared about.

Still, it had given her a seed of doubt about what Kaiden actually thought of her, of them. It'd taken her dying and coming back for it to be confirmed on Horizon. Up until that point she'd been expecting…. Hell. She didn't know what she'd been expecting. Not that it mattered, whatever it was it hadn't happened. Instead, she realized that if she wasn't Kaiden's Commander in the Alliance, she wasn't anything to him at all.

Commander Shepard. Everything else, even everything between them, was secondary.

It was no shame to love the Alliance, first, before anyone else. She understood that sort of loyalty, hell, she even shared it. He would sacrifice what they had for the Alliance. She would sacrifice what they had if it meant getting this mission done.

After all…she let him walk away. She could have stopped him.

….should she have stopped him?

But…

She drew a breath that wasn't as steady as she wanted it to be.

But nothing.

Old ground. Wounds to her pride that didn't deserve to be dwelt on.

Kaiden was a good man who had followed her. Who had followed a Commander. She shouldn't have tried to be anything else to him. He hadn't really wanted it, or if he had, he hadn't wanted it strong enough to reach out and take it. Only enough to just sort of… accept it.

Stare at it.

Wonder about it.

Debate the value of it.

She should have backed off.

Besides, Commanders kept people strong. Commanders kept people alive. Well, most people anyway. It was certainly Commander for people like Miranda, Jacob and Mordin. A rule to follow, a path laid out. For those like Garrus, Grunt or Jack it was Shepard. A loyalty earned. A respect gained.

Commander. Shepard.

Siha.

The smile that twisted her lips up wasn't without its wryness. It blossomed into a full-fledged grin as her thoughts lingered on that particular title and the man who gave it to her.

Well.

She was no goddess. She was no one's direct intervention. Thane saw a unity, a way the universe worked and just put her into the closest category that felt right to him. It was one that she was incapable of fitting perfectly, by definition, but one that was almost inherently ambiguous.

Which, in it's own way, was rather freeing. The other titles had certain duties behind them, expectations and understandings. Perhaps it was simply because she had no idea what Siha had meant at first but it had no such baggage to it. It was just what Thane called her.

Siha. Shepard. No more. No less. He proved it was that simple every time he reached for her hands but didn't bother blathering on about /why/ he was reaching for them. He proved it was that simple when he told her he cared about her but added no disclaimers, no reserves. No checks for either of them.

Of course, she'd done that for him. Once bitten, twice wary, after all…

Still, he hadn't seemed to mind. Didn't argue, didn't push, but didn't give an inch of ground either.

Shepard was a killer, a leader, a woman, a fighter, a hard-nosed bitch and a do-gooder when it came down to it.

She was also someone Thane cared about and someone he let care about him in return. Even in the face of the goodbye they'd be facing all too soon.

Siha.

She was smirking now, strangely smug and somewhat amused at herself for how much visceral pleasure she was getting just playing with this topic in her head. She turned off the water and took another deep breath before she stepped out of the shower.

Yes, it was odd as hell but she liked it.

She'd been trying not to think about Thane because she'd thought that doing so would have her focusing on all the wrong things. On how she was alone in her room right now when, although she hated to admit it, she really wished he was there. How, she'd felt this way before and how, in trying to have something else with Kaiden, she'd ended up with something less.

She reached for a towel to start drying off. It was true as far as it went. If she focused on Kaiden, it was going to make her tense. Tense, unhappy, unfocused. Just as focusing on the fact that Thane wasn't here right now, that she was alone when she'd rather not be, would only make her feel lonely, withdrawn and unproductive.

Her expression grew grim as she got dressed. Technically she could ask him to join her up here, or go join him down in Life Support, but she'd rather face that damn derelict ship again naked and unarmed than do that.

Hell. No.

Not only was it a pride thing and a shameful stupid sliver of fear thing, but it was also a lack of pressure thing as well. For both of them.

And /that/ was what she could dwell on without fear of it weakening her right before a battle. Her relationship with Thane was unlike anything else she'd ever had before. She hadn't had to run after it, she hadn't had to fight for it. She didn't have to be extra strong in order to not be weak in it. She just had to /be/. And Thane just had to /be/. And it was amazingly enough!

And somehow that led to quiet talks about the future that weren't about escaping the present or forgetting the mission but just about following a warmth between them. It led to holding hands nearly every time they talked. Holding /hands/ for god's sake!

She chuckled as she sat down and leaned back.

Not that holding hands was all she wanted from him, by a long shot. Oh no. Effortless, easy, simple, and amazingly full, did not translate into passionless. Just… measured. Like the steps of a waltz, unfolding in its own timing.

Of course, there were times she could have done with that timing getting a bit of a kick in the pants to up the tempo. Gorgeous eyes. Strong arms. Lips that were memorizing and not only for the color pattern... She was fascinated by the texture of his skin and absolutely determined that some day she would get to investigate it further. In fact, that alone could be a nice bit of fuel for the fire in these last couple hours.

Damn you Collectors! You can't decimate the human population and threaten the known galaxy; I haven't had sex with Thane yet! Take /THAT/.

She knocked her head against the desk lightly, as if to stop that line of thought before it took her too far. Foolish. Foolish, light, fun and true. It amused her. What did it hurt to indulge it just for a moment? She laughed ruefully as she reached for her data pad.

She'd been wrong. There was more strength in dwelling on Thane than there was distraction. Just thinking about him was enough not only to lift her spirits and pull her head out of darker, sadder thoughts but to also steady her feet in warmth that she could fight from.

It was a good feeling. It was a clean feeling. She sat down to read over the latest reports, the last reports, and found that she was not only ready to go save the universe, she was content.

Then the door opened and there was Thane. Tense and coiled, bringing her to her feet as his distress instantly and deeply yanked at every protective instinct in her.

Then he was talking. Explaining. He didn't accuse her of being the cause of his shame, but it was there. And, for a nauseating moment that stole her breath she thought it was going to be just like last time. He took her hand from his face. He walked away from her.

Kaiden had sought her out because he'd needed the comfort of her strength and their feelings for each other, even as he'd feared they would interfere with the mission.

Thane came because he'd needed the comfort of her strength and their feelings for each other, as well.

Even as he feared losing them because of the mission.

Thane was not Kaiden.

In the end, as always with him, he gave her back much more than he took.

And she'd only had to invite him.

Not cajole.

Not ask.

It was more than enough.

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Author's Notes:

I was a little annoyed in the first game with the conversation tree that was offered for Kaiden the 'night before' the battle. Frankly, I can't see how a proud, strong woman would not be going 'uh, if you are THAT unsure about us? Perhaps you should leave.' No one likes to be wanted with strings attached.

And, while I adore Garrus and did play through the romance with him, it seemed like it was less a relationship than it could be. Buddies together to blow off steam. Fine, of course, but again, Shepard had to be the instigator.

And we won't even get IN to the disappointment that was Jacob ;)

The woman is saving the universe, dang it. She deserves to have someone pursue /her/ ;)

Thus, I was pleased to realize that while the relationship with Thane seemed to be a quieter one it was one that seemed more like it was both adult and between equals. So I /had/ to write about the differences I saw in that choice for a bit.

Hope you all enjoyed :)


	2. Chapter 2

Standard Disclaimers: I own none of the characters nor the game. I simply like to share plot bunnies.

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_Tali…_

The crew was squared away. Doctor Chakwas had her hands full but everyone who survived the battle should survive to fight another day. Mordin, grimy and bruised but whole, would help too and as the crew started recovering there should be more willing to provide unskilled assistance. She should, regardless, get them into a friendly port soon.

_Oh, God. Tali…_

So that was settled. The ship needed repair work, obviously. T…. no. Donnelly and Daniels had a handle on it. Or would. They were both weak but they knew what had to be done. They deserved to rest after what they'd been through. They all deserved to rest. But the ship came first didn't it? The mission came first, then the safety of the ship came first, and then the crew. So, it was okay.

She'd done her job.

The mission was done. The ship would be fine. The remaining crew was in as capable hands as they could be.

Her soap smelled clean.

The blood on her skin was washing away, circling and disappearing down the drain. It wasn't all red. Not all hers. It wasn't all dark either.

_Tali had been awful close when that shot had blown her face off. _

She choked, shoulders hunching in as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She was horrible. She was awful. She didn't give a damn about Zaeed's death. Jack… Jack was regret. She should have tried harder to reach the brittle woman but she got so /angry/ at the childish way she was cut off each time.

Think of me as dead, she'd said. Or something to that effect.

Bad enough.

Commanders led people in to battles and battles killed people. They might have all died. It was a success that /anyone/ came back. Damn it. Straighten the hell /up/!

She did, coming almost to attention and swallowing hard. Shoulders back, chin up. Face it. Just… face it and get it over with. Zaeed died. She failed him as a Commander. Fine. Not everyone meant something to everyone. Value the life of a squad mate and mourn it as that. Don't be damn hypocritical and whine over how you didn't like him better.

That was the easy part. She stepped back, the tile of the shower stall wall cold against her back. Jack. She hadn't even realized she was gone until she didn't see the tattooed woman in the Medical Bay. She'd failed her as a person. Jack had never gotten beyond herself, her needs, her survival, as her priority. Shepard didn't hold that against her. How could it have possibly been different for her given how she grew up? But not everything was about Jack and it was possible to disagree with the woman without being /against/ her.

Shepard didn't fight hard enough to make that clear and it disturbed her that Jack might have died feeling less valuable than she was. Fine. You can't force people to let you in. You just do your best. Regret it. Mourn it. Talk to her ghost later in your mind if you have to. She died fighting and she died helping other people. It wasn't so bad a fate for a criminal who hated the universe.

For a long time Shepard stared at the joint between wall and floor across from her.

How should the Alliance be told about the situation? What preparations should be made, especially now that she'd told the Illusive Man to essentially go screw himself? Numbers. Tactics. Plans. Don't think about it. Don't focus on it.

She closed her eyes, raising her hand to first rub the bridge of her nose and then simply to cradle her face. Hide the world from her eyes even further.

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was dead and there was no lesson that Shepard could learn from it, no way to use it, no lapse that justified it. She should have seen that the Quarian was too exposed when they were shutting that damn door. She should have let Jacob take the vents, he'd fucking volunteered for it. He was stronger than Tali and could have gotten the damn doors shut in time, before anyone had gotten tagged. Grief twisted into her gut, flaring upwards.

Damn it, why /hadn't/ she had Jacob do it? She had two friends left. Two of them! Liara, odd duck that she was, thought her penance was more important than helping her, Kaiden thought the same about his prejudices. She'd killed Wrex because he didn't give her any choice and Ashley because the battle hadn't given either of them one. Garrus and Tali. That was it! It was sheer dumb luck Garrus wasn't dead, that last hit, first hit, scarring him for life. Great friend there, Shepard. Wonderful reflexes.

_If you'd just pushed her /back/ she'd be /fine/. She'd be down in Engineering right now…_

Shepard's fist was already balled up and she whirled, ready and willing to break bones against tile because it just wasn't /right/. She stopped, knuckles a scant inch from the wall, arm trembling.

She couldn't break her hand.

They didn't have the free resources to fix it and it wasn't safe yet.

The sound that escaped her throat was strangled. A throttling back that wasn't entirely successful and allowed too much too ooze about the edges. Pooling up in her gut and in her mind.

_Tali. I'm so sorry…._

Her friend. Her friend deserved her tears. Not pretend strength. So Shepard took a shuddering breath and let them fall. She rested her forehead against the wall, under the spray, and was distantly happy that ridiculous sounds of her own grief were muffled even to her own ears and not bouncing off the walls back at her.

The sensation of that spray being interrupted only gave her a split-second warning before a light but very warm hand was set on her shoulder. She whirled, moving before processing any of it, arm coiling back to punch furiously at whoever, whatever, this unknown-threat-interloper-danger-bad was.

Thane was quicker than she was or perhaps he was wise enough to expect that reaction. His hand snapped up and stopped hers. She stared at him for a moment without comprehension.

"Thane," it seemed as good a place as any to start.

"Siha," he returned calmly.

She opened her mouth for a moment but then shut it. Dark eyes flicked down over the Drell. "You are in my shower," she pointed out, "getting very wet." He was fully dressed, though his jacket had been taken off at least. The fabric must have been at somewhat water resistant for many of the droplets were simply beading up and rolling down. However, under the direct spray his shirt was starting to darken in places.

"You sounded upset," Thane said, "and clothing dries."

That was a death blow to any confusion and hesitation. He'd heard her sobbing. Great. She turned to the side slightly, arms dropping to cross over her chest. It wasn't for modesty really, though she found herself very aware that she was naked in front of the Drell who she'd become so inextricably invested in. She wasn't ashamed of her body nor was she all that hung up about other people seeing it. Soldier, after all. Public showers and barracks life made modesty less of a priority than it could have been.

Besides, it was Thane. It had only been less than a day go, though it may have felt like a life time, that he'd come to her room and they'd spent several hours together just… well. Exploring, a little. Talking, more. Skin rashes were a distraction she hadn't needed and God knew that mild hallucinations while going into the Collector's Ship would have been an extra challenge that no one needed.

She just didn't want him to see her. To have seen or have heard her like this.

Oh, hell.

She raised a hand to her face again, wiping cheeks and then beneath her nose. Lovely. Alien body that for all she knew was more weird than attractive, swollen eyes, and a runny nose too. "Yeah, umm… I'm fine." It probably would have been more convincing if she'd been able to raise her head and look him in the eyes. Come on, Shepard. Take the offensive. "And, uh, not that I don't think this'd be a great thing in the future, Thane, but," she was able to smirk as she looked up at him, "humans usually consider showers a pretty private place. It's a bit taboo to barge on in without permission first."

"It is for Drells also," Thane agreed mildly, "But I'd break much stronger taboos than that if it meant being there when you might need me."

She looked down again, sharply. The faintly mottled green skin bared by that square neckline was nice to look at most days and most days she didn't have free reign to stare. "We lost a lot of good people today," she said finally, voice rough. It was a beginning. It took her a moment to be able to go further, though, and Thane waited. "We … I lost … I should have protected Tali better."

The light touch to her temple, smoothing back wet hair that had fallen down in a clumsy curl, should have made her angry. Usually when she was upset, gentleness felt like condescension and it only made things worse.

It didn't, however. Not now. But it did spur her to speak again, rapidly, as if to cut off him off from saying things she already knew. She didn't want to hear truths that had become trite. "No, I know I couldn't have. Or if I could have, that I couldn't have /seen/ it at the time." Her voice was getting hard, aggressive, "I know she knew the risks. I even know that she'd very likely rather have died than to have any of /us/ die because she didn't help me with the damn door. I know I did what I could, we all did. But Tali died anyway, Thane!"

"She did," Thane's voice remained composed, even in the face of that rising tension in hers. "And knowing that it was not something you could have prevented does not mean that you cannot mourn it." He pauses, "In fact, it may only make the pain harder, as there is no one to blame anymore. Those who killed her have already paid and done so before you've been able to process the depth of their sins."

She couldn't think of a single thing to say to that. Not a word.

_I wish…_

_Tali, I wish…_

She cleared her throat and shifted her weight again. He was blocking the spray from the shower, still. She should tell him to get out. Finish gathering her composure. Then she could sit with him, hear such simple logic, and know what to do with it instead of just stand there, silent. He was raising his hand again, fingers slightly splayed.

"Your boots," she said quickly, without thinking, "are going to take forever to dry."

He froze. She didn't raise her gaze, she didn't want to see his expression any more than she wanted him to see hers. She felt her heart beat once, then again and again. And again. Leave or stay? She wasn't sure what she wanted anymore but just do one or the other already, /please/.

Then he straightened up and started to move. She swallowed hard, assuming in that first realization that he was going to leave.

"Siha?" He wasn't leaving. He was leaning in, instead. Though the hesitation in his voice was clear, his hand didn't drop back to his side but finished crossing the distance to find her cheek, cradling as he urged her to look up.

She saw herself reflected in dark, endless eyes, and the mixture of concern and uncertainty unhidden in his expression.

She gritted her teeth.

It didn't work, another round of tears, hot and miserable, slid from her eyes down her face.

Thane blinked, inner eye-lids clouding over black and then snapping back almost too quickly to be seen. Fingertips trailed warmth as they sought out those tears and gently but without pause wiped them away.

Then he brushed his hands beneath her nose, just as she had earlier, with just as much gravity.

Her lips twisted upwards instantly and she snorted, laughter and tears producing a remarkably awkward sound. Which, of course, was so damn embarrassing and funny at the same time that she just kept laughing.

And cried.

Light green lips lifted in the slightest of smiles. Thane Krios. Fearless Assassin. Neither snotty-nosed weepy-eyed women, nor growly defensive soldiers were going to scare him off. She got it. Whether he meant it or not, she got it. She stepped forward, even as her shoulders hunched in and her face dropped again. He was already reaching for her, arms going around and pulling her in firmly against him.

"I am here," he told her quietly.

She just nodded.

* * *

Author's Note:

Just to clarify, I realize that Dr. Chakwas and Joker are still alive from the first Normandy, and that Shepard would obviously count some of Normandy 2 crew in her head as friends. However, I don't think that in her own head, when she's angry at herself and thinking emotionally, she'd be stopping to clarify that she meant people whose friendships/relationships she'd gained by directly fought alongside them during /those/ particular missions. I hope that wasn't too jarring!

I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed the first 'chapter'. You'll notice I'd marked it as a one-shot. I never intended to follow up – but the more feedback I got that I was on a good track, the more my imagination thought it was worth following. I really appreciate that!


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